


I would go most anywhere (to find where I belong)

by spiderlingthememe



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Big Brother Harley Keener, Family Feels, Gen, Harley Keener & Peter Parker are Siblings, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Harley is a prince, Obadiah Stane is an Asshole, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Royalty, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is a king, peter is a prince, slightly based off Hercules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29935224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderlingthememe/pseuds/spiderlingthememe
Summary: “This was around your neck when your parents found you.” She held it out, dropping it in Peter’s hands.Peter flipped the object, which looked to be a golden locket, around in his hands. He rubbed a thumb over the engraving of his name in fascination. Something with this much detail had to cost a fortune. Turning it back to the front, he squinted at the symbol engraved, a circle with a triangle in the middle. “What does it mean?”“It’s a symbol of the royal family,” May whispered.OrThe one where Peter is secretly a Prince, Tony is just happy to have his kid back, and Obidiah Stane is not happy.
Relationships: Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 134





	I would go most anywhere (to find where I belong)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! Long time, no updates, BUT. I am back with this thing that I wrote instead of doing homework after binge-watching all of Hercules the Animated Series, and the movie multiple times. Yes, I am in university and yes, my grades are slowly hating me for this. 
> 
> Oh well, enjoy!

The town was bustling with life, the store carts plentiful and the people even more so. Peter kept close to his Uncle as they nudged their way through the crowd with their own cart, his boney shoulders nudging into people's rib cages as he pushed through the crowd. He held his latest invention close to his chest, a climbing bot that he made using scrap pieces he found in the dumping grounds near the castle.

The hunk of junk did not look pretty, but Peter was hoping it would work. The goal was for it to be able to climb walls and collect small things, an assistant bot to help the disabled members of the village. Peter had only seen inventions like this from the conventions the royals put on, to show their Mechanic’s projects that were to project the kingdom into the future. Peter didn’t think he’d be projecting them anywhere, but every little thing counted, right?

Uncle Ben stopped abruptly, and Peter let out a small ‘oof’ as he smacked into the man’s back. Uncle Ben smiled, his eyes surveying the crowd until they landed on one of the other sale merchants.

“Alright, I’ll be right back, just got to make a bargain with Mr. Delmar.” Peter nodded, throwing a wave from standing on his tiptoes as Mr. Delmar returned it with a smile. Uncle Ben turned to Peter with a drawn-out sigh. “And Pete, this time please-“  
  
“I know, I know,” Peter whined, dropping from his toes to sway back to his heels, “stay by the cart.”

“That’s my boy.” Ben ruffled his hand through Peter’s hair, messing up his already messy curls. Peter laughed, shoving his uncle away and leaning against the cart as the man maneuvered through the fray. Peter tried to stay still, he really did. But he needed to know if his invention worked, and he needed the high buildings the village’s commonplace offered. Sneaking off to one of the larger buildings, the library, Peter placed his machine against one of the columns, praying it would do what it was supposed to and stick to the concrete. Holding his breath, he dropped his hand, whooping when the machine didn’t drop.

Pressing one of the makeshift buttons on the back of the bot, Peter yelped, jumping back as sparks flew out. There was a moment of pause, Peter leaning closer to get a good look at what went wrong, when the bot burst into flames, the pressure of the more intense spark sending it flying into one of the clotheslines linked between buildings. The wire bent to the will of the bot, before slinging back, throwing the flaming invention into a women’s basket. The women shrieked, throwing the basket away, and the chain of destruction started.

Peter winced, watching as his invention crashed into food and merchandising carts, biting his lip as a few village folks screamed in surprise at the flying flame ball. Soon the clamor died down, and Peter opened his eyes, wishing he could disappear as he looked at the damage and the angry glares he was now on the receiving end of.

“Um… s-sorry.” He murmured. Two heavy hands rested on his slim shoulders and Peter looked back at his Uncle Ben.

“That boy is a menace!” Someone shouted from the crowd. Peter brought his hands under his chin, shrinking back into his uncle’s chest as murmurs and shouts of agreement carried through the circling crowd. His uncle’s hands tightened on his shoulders, holding him close.

“He didn’t mean any harm, he’s just a kid-”

A haggard old man, the village elder who owned the silk cart, wobbled forward on his cane waving a charred piece of fabric. “Kid or not, that-that _freak_ needs to be kept away from here!” Peter’s eyes grew hot and his head dropped, turning into his uncle’s shoulder.

“Hey, there is no need for name-calling. My boy is not a freak.” Ben growled eyes narrowing on the elder. The man simply grumbled, hobbling off to his now ruined stand spewing expletives the whole way. Peter sniffled, rubbing under his eyes to clear some of the stray tears that fell.

The rest of the crowd dispersed with their own mutters, the women with her basket of charred goods shoving the remains of the destroyed bot into Peter’s chest. Peter’s head fell as Uncle Ben pulled him away from the town, and the mess he made.

-

“Peter, you can’t let what they said back there get to you-"

“But Ben, they’re right! I am a freak!” Peter threw his hands up, running them through his hair and tugging in frustration. “I just- have so many ideas! And I want to try them, but then I mess everything up!” Peter’s hands dropped from his hair, instead gripping the hem of his shirt. “I try to be normal, I really do! But sometimes… sometimes I feel like I really don’t belong here.”

Aunt May sighed, moving to grip Peter’s shoulders. “Peter-“

“I know it doesn’t make any sense.” Peter jerked away from her. He hugging himself, looking into the fireplace, watching the coals burn and wood turn to ash. A shadow fell over him, and Peter looked back at his uncle now standing behind him.

“Peter,” the man sighed, running a hand over his wrinkled forehead, “there’s… something your aunt and I have been meaning to tell you.” His Uncle brought him to the dinner table to sit, Aunt May returning from their room, something small held in her grip.

Aunt May took a deep breath, one hand gripping Peter’s tightly from across the table. “When you were just a babe, your parents found you in an alley.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, the admission rendering him speechless. “…what?”

Uncle Ben continued for May, “Your parents, May and Richard, heard you crying in an alleyway alone.” Peter’s helpless look spurred him on. “They didn’t know how you got there, only that you were crying and that they had wanted their own child for so long. Peter, you were a miracle to them.”

“But-but if they found me, where did I come from? Why was I left there?” Peter’s shoulders slumped as he stared at his Aunt and Uncle in confusion. They shared a look, and May sighed, holding up the object she had grabbed from her room.

“This was around your neck when your parents found you.” She held it out, dropping it in Peter’s hands.

Peter flipped the object, which looked to be a golden locket, around in his hands. He rubbed a thumb over the engraving of his name in fascination. Something with this much detail had to cost a fortune. Turning it back to the front, he squinted at the symbol engraved, a circle with a triangle in the middle. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a symbol of the royal family,” May whispered. Peter’s head shot up to stare at her in disbelief.   
  
“Th-the royals? Seriously?” His gaze swivelled between his guardians, looking for any sign they were lying and finding none. He stared back at the locket, feeling a smile crawl onto his lips as he stood up. “You know what this means? Maybe-maybe they have the answers! Maybe they can -! I’ll-I’ll go to the castle, see if anyone-“ Peter froze as he looked back at his Aunt and Uncle, their tearful smiles stopping him in his tracks.

“Aunt May, Uncle Ben, you're the greatest parents anyone could have,” Peter bit his lip, his eyes hopeful, “but, I-I gotta know where I came from.”

May sighed, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek, “I know sweetheart. You need to do this.” Ben wrapped an arm around his wife and nephew, tugging them into a group hug.

“You’re going to do wonderful things, Pete,” Peter leaned back to smile up at his uncle, “and we’ll be behind you the entire time.”

-

Peter shuffled closer to the castle, his grip tightening on his satchel strap as he stared up at the domineering structure. The large gate taunted him, his last hurdle to cross to get the answers he needed. Taking a deep breath, Peter shuffled closer to the guards standing their post. They looked near identical, except one had a curly moustache set on his upper lip, the other clean-shaven.

“Um, ex-excuse me?” Peter stuttered, his shoulders coming up to his ears at the scrutinizing gaze of the guards.

“Scram kid, we have a job to do,” Moustache grumbled. Peter gulped, his hand coming up to grab the locket around his neck.

“I-I know, but I found this-“ Peter squeaked as the other guard pointed his spear at his chest. Peter’s hands flew up in panic. “Whoa wait! I just-“

“Kid, this is the royal palace. You have no business-“ The guard froze, his eyes widening as they landed on the locket. “Where did you get that?”

Peter looked down warily. “My locket? I-it was with me when-when my parents found me.”

The guards shared a look. “Found you?” Peter slowly nodded. Moustache gasped, nearly tripping over himself to grab Peter’s arm. Peter yelped as he was tugged forward, the gate cranking open allowing passage through the castle’s outer wall.

“W-wait! Where are you taking me?” Peter stumbled as he was dragged at a brisk pace, jaw dropping as they entered the main doors into a large foyer, the highest ceiling Peter has seen making his neck crack as he looked up. Chandeliers hung in a row down the hall, a long red carpet rolled out over the hardwood floors. The windows were lining the walls, more glass than actual building material, and the light shone in from the setting sun. Under any other circumstance, Peter would’ve thought it was beautiful. But instead, he was probably about to be hanged for insolence or something along those lines.

The guards said nothing, walking in silence except for the quick whispers exchanged with the other guards and castle workers. Peter watched as who he could only assume was a butler, based on the clothing choice, stare at him in disbelief before rushing out of the room.

The further into the castle they went, the more stares he got. Peter shrunk into himself, wishing more than anything to have Uncle Ben with him. He always staved off the looks Peter got, usually rude in manner. But this time, the stares weren’t of disappointment. To Peter’s confusion, there was wonder and disbelief, and dare he say it, joy. It’s been a long time since anyone other than his aunt and uncle looked at him with joy. He was the village menace, always making a mess when all he wanted was to help people.

They came up to large double doors at the end of the hallway, the gold ornate trim on one of the doors probably enough for his whole family and neighbours to live on for a lifetime. The doors opened, and Peter stumbled forward at the subtle nudge from Moustache. Peter gulped, his hands sweating as he looked up to the end of the thrown room to the thrown itself and the person sitting there.

King Stark stood slowly from his thrown, eyes wide as he took in Peter’s ripped clothing and messy hair, but more specifically, the locket around his neck. Peter shifted from one foot to the other, hands clenching and unclenching. He had never been in front of royalty, so he had no idea what was proper to do in the presence of a king.

“Um, Mr- I mean King Stark! I-I just, um.” Peter bit his lip, gaze slipping to a man standing to the left of the thrown, probably the royal advisor. The man looked Peter up and down, making Peter uncomfortable and shift even more under his scrutinizing gaze. Peter gulped, his eyes returning to the King who was much closer than before. “I-I found this locket, and it has my name on it and your symbol and-“

“…Peter?”

Peter froze, staring at the King in disbelief. “Ho-how do you know my name?”

The King said nothing to that, simply walking slowly to Peter, a shaking hand coming up to grip the locket, the long chain still connecting it to Peter’s neck. Peter leaned back a little at the close proximity, holding his breath in anticipation. The King gasped, dropping the charm, tears overflowing onto his cheeks as he cradled Peter’s face in his hands.

“Oh Pete, you have no idea how long we’ve been looking for you.”

Peter jerked back from the hold, not missing the hurt look on King Stark’s face and feeling a little bad for being the one to put it there, but he didn’t understand.

“What do you mean? L-looking for me? What is going on?”

King Stark took a deep breath, holding his hand out and gesturing for Peter to hand him the locket. Peter did so hesitantly, bringing his arms around himself after. This was all so confusing.

“Did you know you could open this?” The King asked. Peter shook his head, biting his lip as the locket was opened and passed back to him. Inside was an old portrait, of a family. King Stark and the late Queen, with two boys in front. One looked about four years old, the Queen’s hand resting on his shoulder. The other, a baby of about one year, was cradled in the King’s arms. They all looked happy. Peter looked up at the king, eyes wide. King Stark smiled, pointing down to the baby in the photo. “That would be you.”

Peter felt tears well up behind his eyes, his grip on the locket tightening as the meaning of the photo and the King’s words sunk in.

“You… you’re my- my father?” The King nodded, and Peter stuttered out a hiccuped laugh. This was it, the answer he was looking for. “I can’t believe all this time- wait.” Peter stopped, gaze shooting up to King Stark. “If you’re my father, then that makes me a-!”

  
“A prince, yes.” The King chuckled, ruffling Peter’s hair as he stared off in realization.   
  
“A prince. No way!” The King’s laugh echoed in the throne room, filling the near-empty space with warmth. Peter frowned as an unwanted thought took hold. “My aunt and uncle said my parents found me in an alley… did you not want me?”

King Stark’s eyes softened and his fingers lifted Peter’s chin from where it had turned away to meet his eyes. “Of course we did Pete. Never doubt that we loved you with everything we had.” The King sighed, his thumb tracing Peter’s too pronounced cheekbone. “But someone stole you from us in the middle of the night. We had no idea where you went and every search party came up empty.”

“But why-“

“Dad?”

Peter and the King turned to the source of the voice, watching a boy with dirty blonde hair enter the throne room from one of the side doors. The boy stalled, his eyes widening as they landed on Peter. “Um, who’s this?”

King Stark laughed, gesturing the boy over with a wave of his hand. The boy moved slowly, staring at Peter suspiciously as he was pulled under the King’s arm. “Harley, you remember your little brother, Peter, right?” The King watched with glee as the boy, Harley, gasped. A smile lit up his face as he jerked forward to wrap Peter into a tight hug. Peter yelped, grip tightening on Harley as the older boy spun him around.

“Brother?” Peter asked incredulously as Harley set him down, ruffling his hair into even more of a mess. What was with everyone and his hair?

“Yeah, brother,” Harley laughed, his head swivelling between the King and Peter, “I can’t believe this is actually happening. You guys actually found him!”

“Er well, more like he found us.” The King’s lopsided smile brought Peter’s own to the surface as Harley swiftly tugged Peter under his arm, pulling him in close. It was an easy feat, considering Harley was at least a head taller than him. “Careful Harls, we just got him back, don’t scare him off already.”

“Oh, right,” Harley pulled back, hands raised and a sheepish smile on his lips, “sorry. I got excited.”

A gruff throat clearing sounded behind the group, everyone turning as the royal advisor stepped forward. “Your Majesty, may I request we bring in the boy’s captors for questioning?” As the man said the words, Peter couldn’t help but shiver at the underlying tone of hatred. He couldn’t tell if it was meant towards him or his guardians.

“What? No!” Peter shouted, pulling back from his now known father and brother. “They-my aunt and uncle, they-they’re good people! They wouldn’t-“ Peter’s panicked pleas were cut off by Harley who was quick to shush him, hands up like placating a wild animal.

“Hey, don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” He said gently, but Peter was having none of it.

“King Stark, please!” He pleaded. The King hadn’t moved since his Advisors remark, but Peter’s begging snapped him out of it.

“Whoa, Peter it’s okay,” King Stark settled his hands on Peter’s shoulder. They weren’t as rough as Uncle Ben’s, but they had the same effect, the pressure bringing Peter back down to earth and demanding he take calming breaths.

“They’re good people, Sir,” Peter whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. The King’s heart broke, his thumb wiping up one of the tears that slipped out. Sighing, he nodded.

“Alright,” Peter’s lips started to twitch up but King Stark held up a finger, “but, I want to meet them.”

Blinking in disbelief, Peter’s head nodded aggressively. “Y-yes! Yes, of course, sir!” The King squinted at Peter, poking him in the forehead.

“And enough of that ‘sir’ and ‘King Stark’ stuff.” Peter’s frowned, eyes cross-eyed from trying to look at the intruding finger.

“Well, what do I call you? I mean, you are a king.” Ignoring Harley’s snigger, the King wrapped an arm around both his kids and led them towards the exit where Harley had entered before, further into the castle.

“I know it’s too early to want you to call me dad, so how about Tony?” Peter bit his lip, contemplating, before nodding.

“Oh, okay, um. Mr. Tony?” Tony and Harley laughed, Tony shaking his head. This kid.

“You and your manners. We’ll work on it.”

The trio left the throne room, blissfully unaware of the Advisor’s glare at their backs. Obadiah Stane stalked up to one of the thrown guards, grabbing him by the chest plate.

“That boy will be this kingdom’s ruin,” he hissed into the shaking soldier's face, “you are to find that boy’s family and be rid of them.”

The guard nodded aggressively, knowing better than to argue with the Royal’s Advisor, stumbling over his feet to comply. Stane huffed, adjusting his sleeves and smiling to himself.

“We will break that boy to nothing and I will get rid of him myself.” Striding to follow the steps of the royals, Stane pushed the door open with force, the wood slamming into the wall with a creaky bang.

“This time, I will not fail.”

**Author's Note:**

> I left it kind of open-ended for if I did want to continue this and make it a chaptered fic or series. Let me know what you thought! 
> 
> I'm also on Tumblr; @spiderling-the-meme send me an ask!


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